The Asylum
by legendarytobes
Summary: It's been some time since Chloe saved Clark from his darker impulses as Kal in Gotham and his crime spree in The Narrows. Unfortunately, a certain "cat" is about to reveal Clark's not as far from his Red K counterpart as once thought.
1. Chapter 1

Note - this is the sequel to a very sexually explicit story I wrote called "The Narrows" it can be found in its entirety at either "Two of Us" archive or "The Sullivan Chronicles" whose links I have given in my author profile. The basic idea of this AU set up is that Clark, after season two, never returned to Smallville and instead stayed drugged out of his mind on Red Kryptonite in Gotham. Eventually, Chloe found him, saved him, and he has a relationship with her currently and an uneasy alliance with Bruce.

And onward we go!

The Bat knew what went on in _his_city. Clark hoped, at least, that Chloe didn't know, didn't know that he came to the outlook over the bridges separating The Narrows and Arkham from the rest of Gotham.

He'd never been put in the asylum. The idea that he would have been was ludicrous. No place on Earth-save perhaps the Watchtower-could hold him. He'd been ready when he'd come clean to Chloe and to Bruce to go to prison, to humor the authorities and do his time. He had hundreds of years; he could feel it. Maybe he had more like Diana. He could have spent fifty years doing his time to atone for the swath of damage he'd cut through Metropolis and then through Gotham.

They'd have sent him here.

It was where all the metas of Gotham were sent, where the fiercest and most violent criminals were condemned. Revolving door, yes, but the best idea the GPD had come up with to contain the likes of the Joker and Clayface.

Clark sighed and felt the wind blow hard against him. It ruffled his hair and bit into him. Had he been human, a night this cold would have left him shivering.

"Maybe I deserve to be there."

He hadn't meant for that to come out. It was always a silent vigil, but he felt that it was true. He was Clark almost always with Chloe, who he'd been back on the farm with his family, the hero he'd always tried to be so hard in Smallville. Under the surface, however, he knew Kal was there. He could feel him. He'd been split for so long that it didn't recede. The ring enhanced it, let his fears slide away so that Kal would and could come out.

He was always there, though.

Clark some days still wanted to turn himself in. The son Jonathan and Martha raised paid for his crimes, wanted to do the fair thing. Kal snorted in contempt at such an idea. He was powerful; he was strong. Let Arkham try and contain him. They thought Poison Ivy or Mr. Freeze were a problem?

He'd show them all.

Arkham meant being away from Chloe and that wasn't acceptable, no matter what. Both sides of himself agreed on that. They lived for her. She was was his anchor to the honest world, the one who brought him back after what he'd done to his unborn sibling had driven him away.

He needed her.

Clark sighed and pulled his coat tighter around him.

It was time to go home.

"You're quiet," Chloe said. Her eyes were keenly trained on him as he sat on the edge of the bed, starting to strip off his jeans.

"Long night patrolling."

"I'm sorry I had an emergency with J'onn and Bruce in New York. I like going with you."

"It doesn't have to be a buddy thing," he replied, hesitating over pulling off his shirt. Clark had never gone in the for spandex. The idea of looking like the others embarrassed him. It was so revealing. Kal wouldn't be caught dead dressed up like an acrobat. He wore black jeans, boots and a t-shirt with his house symbol over it. The figure eight in silver covering up the imprint of the scar just underneath the surface. It had been an idea not to brag about his origins, but to try and hide his deformity.

He wished it would just go away.

"Clark?"

"I'm fine."

"I didn't actually ask that."

"Sorry. I...long night."

"Come to bed then. I'm not so tired from the City that Never Sleeps that I can't have some fun tonight."

"Sure." That was something. He was just moping. He had a habit of that. Had cultivated it ever since he'd been a kid on the farm. Chloe helped to keep him from falling to far.

He started over to his side of the bed, fishing out the ring box, in his case coated in thick lead. Chloe reached over and grabbed his bicep. "Don't you want to try without it?"

"Without?" His voice caught. It always did.

"Clark, you're not going to hurt me. When you wear the ring, you have perfect control."

"_Kal_has control."

She laughed, crinkling her nose as she did. "You are Kal. You don't need the ring like a crutch."

"Kal can do it. I just...I end up along for the ride."

She frowned. "I don't like it when you think that way."

"It's not thinking," he replied, opening the box. "It's the truth. He's better at these things than I am. That's all."

"Clark, it's all just you. There's Fawkes and Chloe but it's just a mask. Batman is Bruce letting his inner child out to kick ass. Alter egos don't require third person conversations."

He shoved the ring on his finger and shuddered. It felt almost orgasmic to have the rush of red K run through him, to have his veins pop out, red and burning. "God."

Chloe sat up in bed and glared at him. "I thought we were having a conversation, Clark."

"It's Kal, darlin'."

"It's always just _Clark_. The ring makes you an asshole."

"The ring lets me out."

"The ring shouldn't even be here!"

He leered and from some deep corner Clark watched. "You let me keep it for a nice fuck now and then. As long as I get you off, Fawkes, we can keep it."

"It makes you do things."

"Yeah, notice how much I've robbed banks in this last year. You know you love the red Kryptonite as much as I do. It makes everything fun, makes it challenging."

"I thought you'd be able to wean off of it. If we made the compromise, that eventually you wouldn't need to have it to make love to me."

"To fuck," he corrected. "You were wrong." He smiled back at her, the expression feral and hungry. He stretched out on the bed and waited. "You ready yet?"

She turned over and on side.

Bitch.

"Good night, Clark."

He blurred out so fast even he almost forgot the rest of his clothes


	2. Chapter 2

Clark worked in the mailroom. He'd kept the apartment he'd had and some of the money, not most of it, but a little. On the salary he barely made at _The Gotham Gazette_, he'd never have been able to keep the penthouse.

Even his morality was flexible.

It was hard. He was bright and he was breezing through night classes after passing his GED. Still, he'd officially left high school at 16. This was the best he'd been able to get with a favor called in from Chloe to personnel and something she'd hinted at about the main headhunter, a goat, and polaroids.

Some days, Clark just didn't want to know.

He was in his cubicle, sorting through the mail for the newsroom, when he felt-just felt-something slip into the office. Clark sighed and kept putting the mail away. He didn't like giving Bruce the satisfaction of eye contact. The other man might be able to sneak up on every thug in the city but Clark wasn't like anyone else in the city and Kal had never just been like anyone else, ever.

"Clark."

"Hi! It's pretty amazing that you knew where the mailroom was. I mean, I know you own like half the buildings in Gotham, including this one. To think that you came all the way down to the dregs to visit little old me."

"Are you done?"

"Did I do something?" He asked, letting Kal's sarcasm slip away.

Bruce looked so incongruous among the stacks of slightly crumpled papers and the smell of ink and stamp glue. The Armani a sharp contrast to Clark's polyester from J.C. Penny. He looked ready for GQ and Clark? He looked ready for _Office Space_. "How are things?"

"We don't usually chat. I see you on missions, occasionally Chloe drags me to the mansion because she likes Alfred, but we don't have social hour."

Bruce nodded. "I don't trust you."

"I've gone straight! Truth, justice and envelopes. If I were planning a crime spree, I'd have done it and gotten out of the basement."

He stalked farther into the room and Clark could almost imagine the cape flaring out behind him. Theatrics had always defined Bruce and Clark hated that.

"What do you do at night?"

"Excuse me?"

"You patrol alone at least once a week. I was worried that you were doing extracurricular thieving."

"I'm not."

"I was afraid that you were so I had a tracking chip placed in one of your boots. You should X-ray things more."

Clark looked up finally. It hurt that Bruce, that the League really for Bruce practically ran it, didn't trust him after almost a year and several Apocalpses avoided. He'd helped stopped a rogue Thanagarian invasion for Christsakes and now Bruce was droning on about trust? Kal cut it in deeper, reminding him that humans didn't trust him, couldn't.

His dad hadn't when it mattered.

"I knew you'd pull something like that. I just like to believe in people. I like to believe that people are basically good but when you spy on me, it makes that harder and harder to hold onto."

"Someone like you has to be watched closely."

"An alien?"

"It's not Xenophobia. J'onn and Shayera are honorable. I don't trust criminals." Clark snickered and he wasn't sure which part of his psyche had done it or maybe both sides of himself were in agreement on something. Bruce narrowed his eyes at him and Clark could even see the cowl, all that intimidation now habit for Bruce if you knew how to watch him. "What?"

"Selina was paroled three months ago for a technicality her lawyer found. The lawyer you paid for."

"Selina is none of your business."

"No, I don't think she is, but I do hate double standards. You bend over backwards to help her because you're in love with her."

"I'm not."

"Right, but when it comes to me and my evil actions of watching a hillside, then I'm not to be trusted. That's not fair."

Bruce scowled at him. "Selina isn't someone you can comment on, ever."

"Your rules?"

"Always."

Clark stood up then. He didn't like bullies. "I go to work. I go to school at night. I save the world and keep this city as safe as you do. Why do I get threatened?"

"Why do you watch Arkham?"

Clark wanted to look away, embarrassed that Bruce knew something about him that Chloe didn't. He compromised with that other part of himself that just wanted to fry Bruce where he stood. He kept eye contact, but so help him if Bruce kept talking down to him...

"I watch a lot of parts of The Narrows. It was my territory for ten years. I know it well."

"You go to the Asylum almost every night."

Clark snorted. "You think what? I'd break _in_to that place? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. I can't figure out a motive to go there."

"Think I want to pal around with the Joker or the Penguin? I helped put the Penguin away in order to save Chloe's life. We all know he's obsessed with her because Fawkes, her namesake, is a bird. It doesn't make sense but what does in this town?"

"Why go there?"

"I don't have to tell you. You're not my parole officer."

"Aren't I?"

"I don't talk about it. I won't."

"I have my eyes on you, Clark, don't forget that."

"How could I?"

"Good."

"Is this about Chloe?"

Bruce stilled. "Excuse me?"

"All this posturing, this 'I don't trust you,' this 'get the fuck out of my face' behavior, is this because Chloe and I live together?"

"Fawkes and I are not like that, not anymore."

"Then would you stalk me as much if I were on my own?"

The other man turned and grabbed the knob. "Just watch your step, Clark. I don't know what you're doing at Arkham, but I will find out." With that, he slammed the door behind him. The fact that it knocked over a stack of papers in Clark's office was an accidental bonus.

"Jackass."

At least Clark and Kal could agree on that.


	3. Chapter 3

"We're what?"

Chloe laughed. "J'onn and Diana are taking Gotham for the night. For once the three of us can have a night off."

"What? Why?" Clark asked, his boots half way laced up.

"Because sometimes we get to do something that doesn't involve the scum of the city and being covered in dust and sludge from The Narrows. Don't you want to do something different?"

"Different?"

Chloe nodded and opened up the wardrobe in their room. Hanging on one side was a tux and on the other, a deep emerald gown, one cut with a slit up the thigh. "We're going out."

Clark blushed. He wondered where the slit stopped. Kal wondered if it even had to. If Chloe looked like that, they'd both go anywhere. "Where?"

"The Gotham Gugenheim. There's a Degas exhibit."

"We're going to see pictures of ballerinas?"

"It's part of a museum benefit. Bruce donated enough for a whole wing."

Clark hated the admiration in her voice. "He'll be there?"

"His benefit so I'm thinking so. Come on," she replied, tossing him the tuxedo. "It'll be a change from our normal lives."

"Only you would call working for the Justice League normal. I...did you know that Bruce came to see me today?"

"He what?"

"He doesn't trust me. Came to bluster about things."

Chloe clenched her jaw. "The bastard. I'll talk to him. Bruce's alpha male schtick is old. I don't want any of it to come between us."

"Why today?" Clark prodded as he started slipping on his shirt.

"What?"

"Bruce said he's had me under surveillance for weeks. Why did he come to me now?"

Chloe's eyes shifted from side to side. "I don't know."

Kal could smell blood. Clark stalked closer to her, afraid of what she'd say. "Did you tell him?"

"About what?"

"Did you tell him about us, about how we still need the red Kryptonite to make our relationship work."

"First of all," Chloe huffed. "Bruce and I don't share sex secrets. Second, I don't need red K. I don't care about that part of it. If you got rid of the rock and never made love to me again, we'd still be in a relationship. Alright?"

"You want that, don't you?"

"What?"

"You want me to get rid of the red K even though you know I need it, that we need it."

She frowned. "Why do you do that?"

"The 'we'? It's true. I can't explain it, but I need the red Kryptonite or I can be who you need."

"You mean you can't let Kal out."

"Do you hate who I was that much?" He asked, omitting the fact of how close his id always was to the surface.

"Kal's not who you are now. You're a good man, not some angry rebel without a cause. I know you were always there, that the good side was always there. You saved my life, even with the red K on your finger. You took it off and lived this other life where you were giving almost as often as Bruce does to charity. You don't need the ring."

"Might as well be saying 'magic feather,'" he huffed.

"I might have mentioned to Bruce that I thought you were having bad days. He doesn't know about the Kryptonite; I could never bear to tell him what the green kind did to you. I was scared of giving the League that much power to contain you if things-"

"Went south. Do you think they will?"

"Never," she replied, all that Fawkes confidence and bravado coloring her words. "But your reliance on the red K scares me a lot. It's a drug, Clark, and you're beyond that. You're beyond so much now. You have a life here and friends. You have your parents back and you have me."

"I can't explain why I need it."

"Try, God, please try."

Clark looked down at his hands. After a decade with the ring on, they still seemed naked. "The ring makes me not care."

"About me?"

"We...I always care about you." And, Christ, he knew it was creepy that he had some multiple personality crisis.

"Then what?"

"It makes me able to live with myself. For a few hours, I don't feel bad about the baby. For a few hours, I can forget that I really belong in Arkham; I don't worry about killing you when we make love. It makes me better."

"It makes you a royal jackass."

The Kal part of him laughed. "It does, but jackasses don't care about things that hurt. They can't feel the pain."

She grabbed his arm, soft hands caressing his bicep. "I'm here. It'll get better. You just have to let it go. Your parents are thrilled to have you back. Pete and Lana and little Clark are happy to have you back in their lives again. I need you. Just give it up. Give Kal up."

He kept focusing on his hands. God, he wanted the ring right then. He wanted to make the insecurity go away. Kal was so much stronger than he was. "I can't."

"Then I'm still worried about you and I can understand why Bruce is too. You don't need to play the thug anymore. You're not him."

Clark sighed and started adjusting his cuffs. "Chlo, I'll always be him."


	4. Chapter 4

The Gugenheim was vast, decorated in an art deco style that reminded Clark of the 1930s. Gotham had that vintage look to it, always had, it made the city seem even older and more decrepit than it already was. The foyer for the exhibit was brightly lit and it amused Clark and Kal both, thinking about how Bruce could possibly slink out of the shadows this time. Chloe hadn't talked to him on the way over, the ride in the cab had been pregnant with silence and with tension.

Sometimes, he wondered if it wouldn't be easier to just run again, to leave Gotham and Smallville behind him. For all her proclamations about understanding him, Clark doubted if Chloe could.

He didn't even understand himself, the split that left him always at odds with himself, the heritage he still didn't want or know.

It all left him alone, wandering the exhibit floors, staring absentmindedly at the lines of Degas's work. Sometimes he wondered if those girls felt like he did, worked over into the right shape, the right position, no matter how much it bent them. Maybe he wasn't cut out for the League either.

"Ugly, isn't it?" The voice beside him was smooth, sultry.

Clark turned and gulped at the woman next to him. She was beautiful. Taller than Chloe, though nowhere near Diana's six feet. She was older too, easily mid thirties, with long golden hair that fell in waves at her shoulders. Her skin was pale as porcelain and contrasted sharply with the dark rings under her eyes. She hadn't slept in a long time, even someone with human vision could tell that much.

"What?"

"Degas hated his subjects and it shows. If you want to see something of merit, at least try Gaugin. The colors he captured from the tropics were unreal, as if they hadn't existed before he painted them." She laughed and Clark let out an uneasy, forced chuckle. Kal, now Kal was intrigued.

"Who are you?"

She reached out one hand and he noted the ring on her left pinky finger, the golden face tiger with the jade eyes. "I'm-"

"Selina Kyle." He shook his head. "The ring gives it away. I should have known. You look different. All the news footage of you...you were tanner."

"And more rested. It really is amazing what six months in prison can do to someone. I'm leaner too."

"I...at least you're out."

"And on probation. I know who you are, Mr. Kent. Your story, now that is interesting."

"Excuse me?"

"If I'm on probation, having to be a good kitty. Then you're being watched even more closely, having to be a good little green man."

Self-consciously, Clark reached for the front of his shirt. The scar was there but hidden. She wouldn't have known what he was and what he wasn't, if not for Bruce. "Is nothing a secret around here?"

"Don't worry about it. I must say that aliens must be a step up. Humans can't seem to run an office, let alone a planet. Don't get me started on all the environmental disrespect. Did you know that species are going extinct at 1000 times the rate in this century than they have in any other. And they say I'm the criminal."

Clark sighed. "I don't know anything about my planet, just that it's not there anymore, and I have no idea where the rest of my people are, if they're even alive."

Selina's expression softened from sultry to concerned. "How old are you, kid?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm 27."

"Still young. I guess you can see where I'm coming from. There isn't much more to be said for an endangered species than one left."

Clark bristled at that. "I'm just like everyone else."

Inside Kal laughed, whispering to him that he wasn't just like anyone. He was better than everyone. Clark pushed that thought aside. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to rule them with strength, rule anyone with strength.

Selina shook her head and patted his arm. The gesture was condescending, as if he were a little slow or a small puppy, erm, kitten. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I..."

"I'm not even a meta but I know what it's like. I run wild and society punishes me for it, punishes us for it. You're something truly unique. I specialize in the unique and endangered."

"I'm not exactly a tiger either."

"No, but I wonder if that little kitten you have over there," she said, gesturing haphazardly at Chloe who, to Clark's annoyance, was chatting with Bruce. "I wonder if she gets you either. The straightlaced, the black and white brigade, they try, don't they?"

"You and Bruce are-"

"We're complicated. He's half my jailer and half..." she grinned and dropped her hand. "Well maybe that's a bit too explicit for you."

"Don't know much about that, kitten . I might know a hell of a lot more than you think."

She blinked. "Did I just pick up an AM frequency? A little UHF?"

Clark blushed and looked away. Sometimes that line, even without the ring, was so thin, that he didn't know how to keep it in place. "No. I...I'm sorry. That was rude."

"Now the farmboy blush and stammer. You, Clark, are even more interesting than your backstory. Something about you-"

"What?"

"Untamed. They want to put a Siberian tiger in a cage, make it do tricks, don't they. You're only roaring on command as long as you're amused by it."

"I love Chloe."

Selina nodded. "I've heard that song before. Same tune, second verse."

The bitterness there surprised Clark. From what few hints he'd had from J'onn and one snide joke by Wally, he'd always assumed that Selina had stolen Bruce away from Chloe. How the Hell could she be the jealous one?

Kal saw kindred. He turned and watched Chloe and Bruce. They stood too close together to be casual, her hand draped on his arm, her smile wide. Both of them hated it, still wanted to fry Bruce where he stood, the bastard.

"I do. We both... I do."

Selina quirked her head at him, the cat watching the canary. Despite his abilities, he felt suddenly outclassed. "Interesting indeed. I know you're like me, that the League is giving you one last chance before they turn you over to the Asylum and throw away the key."

"That's not exactly-"

"Surveillance, distrust, the whispers. At least you're allowed at Watchtower. I'm even more out on the frontier than you are. You ever wonder what happens if you fuck up? If Chloe finally gives up on you?"

"She won't."

"Which one are you, Clark? The thug or the farm kid? The alien or the regular Joe?"

"I'm just Clark."

She laughed and it grated on him. "No, you're anything but that."

"So did you like the exhibit?"

Clark nodded and hesitated again. He had stripped down to his boxers, but hadn't yet made a move to take off his undershirt. Doing that revealed his scar, the reminder that he was what Selina had said, unique.

Might as well have said freak .

"It's okay, Clark. I glow. It's just a thing. You can't help what the ship did to you."

Clark nodded and pulled off his shirt. He wanted to turn away from her, from the look of pity in her eyes. "I hate it."

Chloe smiled sadly and traced her fingers over the concentric circles of the figure eight on his chest. "I know that you do."

Nothing made that insecurity go away. No amount of red K could take those feelings from him. Kal hated it; he hated it. Jor-El had been sure to label him as a Kryptonian for the rest of his life, branded him like cattle, and he never wanted to see it, to remember. The ship had deformed him and then killed part of his family.

Why the fuck would he want to follow it now?

Why the fuck did he still fear he would?

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't look like that."

Chloe laughed bitterly. "I can't ask you to take care of yourself. I can't tell you I'm sorry about your scar. I can't touch you. What exactly can I do?"

"You don't have to take care of me. I'm fine ."

She snorted. "Why don't I believe that?"

"I met Selina tonight," he said, slipping under the covers and letting her spoon against him. He never pulled her to his chest, never wanted her to feel the stretched skin. She respected that.

"I saw," Chloe replied, her tone clipped. "She and I have met."

"I know that everything got so fucked up between you and her and Bruce. I don't know the details, but I can guess it."

Chloe tensed behind him. "There's nothing to tell. She's prettier, worldlier, and half psychotic, totally Bruce's type. Sometimes you can get kicked to the curb, you know?"

"Did he cheat?"

"You can't cheat if you're not officially dating. Bruce and I didn't go out, we didn't have class rings, Clark. We fucked after a patrol, rutted around. I thought...what I thought didn't matter. It certainly wasn't much more than a distraction for him."

He took her hand in his. Comfort was Clark's strong point. Kal had nothing delicate about him. "Then he was an idiot."

"Selina's Selina. Like I said older and more experienced, beautiful."

"Rude and cutting," he snarked.

"Was she mean."

"No, but I don't think she understands me as well as she think she does."

"Understands you?"

Clark sighed. "Bruce told her about me. Everything that you know, some of the things I told him in confidence, he told her. I guess fair is fair. I probably know a lot more about Selina than she'd like because you have the backstory. I just...I didn't like how she looked at me was all."

"How did she look at you?"

"Like an exotic pet, like a curiosity."

"Because you're an alien?"

"I doubt she'd treat J'onn that way even though he's the only Martian around. I guess that I feel like she, nevermind."

"She what?" Clark closed his eyes. He didn't want to tell her, to admit that Selina saw what Chloe wouldn't and what made Bruce afraid. There was something wild underneath all of it, something that had been shattered apart the day he'd slipped on the ring and left Smallville forever. Gentle hands gripped him more tightly. "You can tell me anything, you know that."

Only what you want to hear .

"She just intimidates me is all. I hate when people know where I'm from or, you know, not from before they meet me. Just because I'm an alien doesn't make me alien ."

She squeezed his shoulder. "I know."

"Sometimes, I wish Fawkes and Superman could find their own city. Gotham's too small for the four of us."

"It's been my home since I was small. Dad's here. I might have mixed feelings on Bruce but he's still like family and, of course, how could we leave Alfred? It's not fair to leave him in charge of the Dark Knight like that."

He rolled over and kissed her temple. "I have this feeling something will happen."

"Premonitions aren't in your power description."

"No, but I can tell when things are bad. Bruce is tailing me. Selina's-"

Kal wanted to prod that coming onto him was the best euphemism for what she'd been doing. Clark shoved it aside.

"What?"

"She's pestering me. There's meta criminals everywhere and danger in every big city. Let's go home to Metropolis for a while. The Angel of Vengeance is pretty swamped there."

"I love Gotham, like I love you."

He nodded. "I just..."

She kissed his lips and traced a pattern on his shoulders, very careful not to touch the scar. Chloe was considerate like that. "It's fine, Clark. Everything is going to be just fine."

Inwardly, the Kal part of him snorted. Optism wouldn't cure this fucked up mess and what Chloe had said? That was a kiss of death if there ever was one.


	5. Chapter 5

"You're always so busy!"

Clark had surreal moments in his life. He was an alien. His lover was a meteor mutant who glowed when she healed (and came). He worked for the Justice League for Christsakes. All of this aside, however, the most surreal moments in his life came from sitting at the table in the little yellow farmhouse where he'd been raised and still playing the part of Clark Kent, farmboy.

It had been over a decade since he'd lived on the farm, a decade meant that his little sibling should have been old enough for fifth grade or even middle school, really. He looked across the table at the empty chair in front of him.

They both hated that they'd denied their parents that.

Kal hated it because then their dad had used it as an excuse to shut the door on them. Clark hated it because it had caused their parents pain and, together, they'd hated that there'd ever been a sibling at all. Deep down, it had always felt like replacement, especially with the way mom had hidden it.

"Mom," he replied, biting into a slice of apple pie.

(Some things even Clark and Kal could agree on and that included mom's apple pie.)

His mom, her hair more gray now than red, sat down beside him. When had everyone around him gotten so old? Dad had had at least two heart attacks since he'd been gone and mom looked frail, small.

_Human._, Kal reminded him.

"Clark. You don't visit as much as you did when Chloe brought you home."

He sighed and started playing with the bits of crust on his plate, pushing them around with his fork tines. As confused as he felt at the penthouse or even in the Watchtower, it was a million times worse in his home. This was where he was supposed to be the Clark he'd always been and he didn't remember how to be him anymore, even with the ring hundreds of miles away.

He wasn't that guy.

"I try. The League keeps me busy, mom, and I have to help them since it is my parole, you know?"

She stiffened, the reminder that he was a criminal like a blow. "Surely Bruce or Chloe can talk to them, make you have a few less shifts. Isn't coming home to be with your family part of the rehabilitation process?"

"Define family," Kal snarked.

Clark's eyes widened and he dropped his fork, apple bits splattering across the table. "Mom, I'm sorry."

She frowned. "I...what does that mean?"

Clark ignored that traitorous little voice, the one that told him that his family had turned their backs on him and could do it again. That they could never really understand him. His mom had been sick, she hadn't made that choice.

Of course, they hadn't tried to trace him when his antics were obvious in Metropolis either.

"Nothing."

"You do that often. Did you notice?"

"Drop my fork?" he asked, trying to laugh everything off.

"No, you say something under your breath, something cutting and then apologize for it." She studied him, reaching up with one hand to ruffle his long bangs. Clark liked having something to hide behind; Kal preferred the rough look.

Compromises.

"It's nothing, I promise."

She shook her head. "It's definitely something. Sometimes I forget or maybe I want to."

"Forget?"

Her hand dropped to cover his. "I see you walk through that door, even if you're in a suit, and I see you like you were in high school. It's like time stood still."

He blushed and looked down at his hand. "I know I don't look that different. I know I'm not aging."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

_Of course she wouldn't_.

Clark shook his head. He just had to ignore that part of himself. He wasn't that guy with his mother. He couldn't afford to be.

"Maybe I'm just lucky then," he corrected, knowing the lie they were both buying into. He could feel it, even if J'onn hadn't confirmed it. He was immortal like Diana, like Chloe. Could be here til who knew when.

Definitely long after this farm was dust.

"Luck aside," his mom added. "I want to pretend sometimes that you're just coming home from Smallville High and that you're biggest problem is a history exam. It's easy to slip like that."

Clark looked back up at her. "I'm still the same guy that I always was."

Technically true. He just had something else since the ring, something he could shove away most of the time.

"Sweetie, it's not about what you did there, not directly. Your dad and I know that you didn't meant to do what you did, that the ring's a drug."

"A drug I kept taking. I knew what the ring did and I kept putting it on, mom. I _wanted_it."

His mom broke eye contact first, scooping up his plate and placing it in the sink. "You were confused. I just meant that I know you can't be ten years older and have spent most of them living and doing...things in the Narrows."

"Things is a way to put it," and could Kal ever keep the cocky out of their voice?

Mom ignored whatever innuendo he'd laid into it. "You can tell us what happened, son. We know you had a hard time. We know that you did things we wouldn't be proud of. You can still talk about it here. You don't have to put on a brave face."

"I'm fine, mom, really."

"Honey," she replied, opening up the dishwasher and shoving in the plate. "I want to let you in on a little secret."

"What's that?"

"You were never a very good liar. I just want you to come to us, like the old days. You treat coming by here almost like a chore, like it's something to tick off on a list. This is your home."

"I know."

_Wasn't always._

"We can handle whatever you have to say."

"Great, mom, that's great!" he replied, eying his watch and wondering how little he could stay before running out.

He didn't want to be rude; he just couldn't stay


	6. Chapter 6

Clark was dressed in torn jeans, green t-shirt, and a leather jacket, the older clothes from the back of his closet. Chloe had the governor's ball to cover and a late night to keep her name above the fold at _The Gazette_. Bruce was...well who the hell cared where Bruce was? The point was the Batman wasn't on his turf tonight.

The ring wasn't with him. Chloe had taken it-the bitch-and hidden it somewhere else. Clark figured it was either in the manor or in the Watchtower. Neither place would be somewhere he could search for it, even in superspeed, and be discrete. The easy high, he'd miss, the instant confidence, but he could slip Kal on and off now like a second skin. One day maybe...

...no, immortal and healing or not, Clark would never risk Chloe in bed, not when he could shatter bones.

He stalked the alleys of the Narrows, his hypersenses filtering out the stench of blood and urine that filled them. He was looking for a fight, for violence. Clark threw someone thirty feet if he had to, used the minimal amount of his power that it took to subdue an opponent and, even with the array of metas out there, it was very little.

Kal wanted to rumble.

Chloe was a preferred partner, even if she didn't show off her body in tight leather the way Dinah did. More's the pity, she had a great ass. Chloe meant he didn't have to hold back as much. They could go hard with each other, balls to the wall. Her strength reflecting his. Besides, he knew she liked the dance, the spirit of it.

Fighting, at its best, was almost as good as a nice hard fuck.

There wasn't that today. He'd have to settle for the scumbags in the alley he was presently strolling through, the ones with a strung out blonde held to the wall, knife at her throat.

Kal grinned.

"Pimps are always good for something."

The larger one, some bear bellied slob with sweat drenching his goat-like beard, eyed him. "It's not your concern."

It damn well wasn't. Clark was the boyscout. He was the one with the noble ambition to save the girl in quivering in front of them. Kal just wanted to hear bones crunch.

He strolled into the alley, letting them know he owned the damn place. "I think that it is."

"Marco-"

The younger guy, wiry and lit up, rushed for Kal. The knife that bent against his stomach was anticlimatic. "The fuck?"

Kal rolled his eyes. "Arkham's five blocks over and you're surprised I'm not just like you. Really?"

The genius tried to punch him, out of spite, Kal blurred around him. "Whoa!"

"Yeah, fast too. Are you gonna try punching the superfast, invulnerable badass now?"

Marco had probably not aced his SATs (or knew what the acronym stood for). He rushed forward and this time Kal did stand still, letting the punch hit him square in the jaw. The shattering of bones made him laugh.

Somewhere underneath the surface, Clark cringed.

Pussy.

"Wanna try a second time?"

"Holy fuck!" Marco exclaimed, trying to back away. Kal backhanded him into a dumpster. The man's heart was still beating but he wouldn't be in any shape to walk anywhere when he woke up. Kal wasn't a hundred percent sure he'd be walking anywhere ever again.

By this time, the older man, had dropped the girl's throat. She was up and running faster than someone on lucite should have been able to. "What did you do?"

Kal sighed and let loose a blast of heat vision at the brick behind goat-beard. "Nothing like that. Now, go turn yourself in."

"No way."

Kal eyed the blade in his hand. Quick blink and it was melted to slag. "Next time it's your eyeballs." He pushed forward, crowding over the other man, taking advantage of the six inches he had on him.

The other man practically left a trail of dust like a Merry Melodies cartoon as he ran out of the alley.

With a breath, Kal put out the last of the flames licking the brick wall.

Someone was applauding behind him. Turning, eyes still blazing, he was only moderately surprised to see Selina. or, more accurately, Catwoman. She was dressed from head to toe in irregularly stitched vinyl and a mask that wasn't so much functional as ridiculous. At least Bruce and Chloe's cowls were bullet proof. Selina's?

Well, the night vision goggles in them were at least intriguing.

"You look ridiculous, kitten," he drawled, leaning back on his heels, his thumbs wrapped through loops in his jeans.

"You look a bit like James Dean. What, got a no cause there, _Clark_?"

"It's Kal."

She laughed and he hated her know it all attitude. "It doesn't matter what you call yourself, you still look like a scared little boy. Did you know that?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

She laughed again, idly cracking the whip she carried. "Yes, you can beat up Gotham's most strung out with a glance, amazing."

"I didn't see you do anything."

"Well I'm a good kitty now. I try not to leave the creeps clinging to life support," she said, gesturing to Marco's crumpled form. "I don't think your canary would approve of that."

"_Fawkes_," Kal gritted out. "What Chloe thinks doesn't matter."

"I notice you only went all _Clockwork Orange_on him without Chloe here. I think it matters a great deal to you what she thinks."

Kal started to stalk off. He didn't need Selina. She confused him. "Chloe wouldn't understand."

The crack of a whip and suddenly Selina was swinging over him, landing softly under a fire escape ladder at the alley's edge. "Do you?"

"Is this where you play the older, wiser bitch routine? Not interested."

"I struck a nerve at the Gugenheim, didn't I? You don't like it when people remind you how different you are."

"I don't mind it. _Clark_hates it. I know I'm better. I just don't have a lot of ambition besides a good fight and," he added, getting closer to her, his breath hot on her cheek, "a good fuck. Unfortunately, I don't do grandmothers."

"You really act like there are two of you there. Does Chloe know that?"

"You gonna run off and squeal to Brucie boy? 'That _alien_you are babysitting is batshit.' Hell of a piece of pillow talk, sweetheart."

"We don't obsess over you."

He laughed, it came out even more bitter than he'd intended. "The whole League worries about me. Too powerful to ignore. Too powerful to lock up. Just wait and see if the crazy alien does what they say."

"Shayera hates you."

"She hates everyone. Has a bug up her winged ass. Bruce has a whole mace up his."

She laughed. "He's not as bad as you think."

"If you live for double standards. Maybe I just need to give Bruce a blowjob, seems to have softened him-so to speak-on you."

Selina eyed him. "I'm not dumb enough to lash out at you. I can do the math. You can set something on fire at fifty feet away, easy. I can't outfight you. I wonder sometimes if anyone can."

"You and me both, darlin.'"

"It wasn't a compliment."

"I know. I don't have limits." Like he was gonna let the cat out of the bag on his rock allergy. Only Chloe, Pete and his parents knew that. Best not to spread it around.

"So, _Kal_," she snarked. "If you're the Hyde, what else do you do while Dr. Jekyll's sniveling in a corner?"

He laughed. "That's cute."

"I try."

"I...there's a hill."

"There's a song about a fool on a hill, even before my time. Maybe it's apropos if you sit out there."

He shook his head. "It overlooks Arkham. Sometimes I go there to think on nights when Chloe's busy."

She quirked her head at him and slipped the goggles off her head. "You're serious?"

"Yes." And he was. Clark liked to think, to do penance for the 'why me' that he reveled in. Kal...it was just a nice view. The highest hill in The Narrows, his territory, no matter what Bruce thought. His place.

His.

Bruce would do well to remember what was and wasn't his.

Like Chloe.

"Well," she said, hopping into his arms. "I suppose the Kryptonian express is the fastest way to get there."

Kal dropped her and laughed when she landed less than gracefully this time. "Don't like it when people know more about me than I do about them. Now, I'll be on Knobb's Hill. When you do all your kitty-fu and Indiana Jones act on the rooftops to get there, I'll be waiting."

With that, he was gone.

Clark sat on the hill, his leather jacket in hand. The adrenaline rush or whatever else it was that flowed through his fucked up body was over. He felt drained and tired, felt Kal falling to the wayside, that niggling voice under the surface once more.

"Hunched shoulders, huh? Is Jekyll back?" Selina asked, and he noticed her mask and everything else were off her face. They were somewhere in between.

"I can't explain it."

"Maybe dissociation is completely normal on your planet. Maybe you don't know it."

"Pep talk?"

"No, I was just curious, like I said, something feral there and you keep it leashed pretty damn tight. A bank robbing spree is the least of what you could have done with all that power."

"Kal's not a liar. We're both kind of lazy. I...if I had a city or a country or a whatever under my control, I wouldn't even know what to do with it."

_Rule them with strength_.

"Or maybe you're more King of the Jungle than stalking jaguar."

"Lost here."

She nodded. "Maybe both sides are more noble than you want to admit. That Ghost/Kal badass act screams insecure little boy."

"I'm not a kid."

"Spoken just like one. So here's a thought, do you ever try to explain to Chloe about the switcheroo?"

He looked away from her, to the great brick expanse that was Arkham, something hulking as if it had sprung fully formed from a Dickens novel. "She thinks it's the ring I used to wear."

"Interesting reaction to jewelry, tiger."

"It's not that...she has her reasons to think that. It's not like my body's not some total freakshow, my mind too."

"I think ten years on the lam would play havoc with anyone," she prodded gently.

"Not like that. I just...everyone wants to think I'm better than I am, that Kal's behind me and he's not. He's _always_here, always with me. Sometimes I have to let him out. Sometimes I just want to be violent."

Her breathing and heartbeat stayed even. It surprised him. No one who knew what he could do ever kept calm around those kinds of admissions. "You ever read, kid?"

"I'm not stupid. I finished high school, sort of. I'm in night classes on Mondays and Wednesdays."

"I didn't say you were stupid. I'd asked if you were well read. It's different."

He shrugged. "If there's a book report I do it. I've been preoccupied over the years."

"Blake, tiger, look him up, and stop watching this place. It gives a girl the creeps."

He snorted. "We'll be there some day, you know? Bruce and Chloe...they bend their own rules. They want to keep us out as best they can, but it's going to happen."

"I'm not going to prison again. I'm not going to be caged."

The Kal part of him laughed, peeking out one more time in the night. "Darlin', we're already there, It's just a much bigger cage."


	7. Chapter 7

The one advantage of working in a corner of the mailroom was that no one gave two shits what he did as long as the bills and letters were delivered on time. If he sat in his cubicle doing a little extracurricular reading then that was his own business.

_"TIGER, tiger, burning bright__  
><em>_In the forests of the night,__  
><em>_What immortal hand or eye__  
><em>_Could frame thy fearful symmetry?___

_In what distant deeps or skies__  
><em>_Burnt the fire of thine eyes?__  
><em>_On what wings dare he aspire?__  
><em>_What the hand dare seize the fire?___

_And what shoulder and what art__  
><em>_Could twist the sinews of thy heart?__  
><em>_And when thy heart began to beat,__  
><em>_What dread hand and what dread feet?___

_What the hammer? what the chain?__  
><em>_In what furnace was thy brain?__  
><em>_What the anvil? What dread grasp__  
><em>_Dare its deadly terrors clasp?___

_When the stars threw down their spears,__  
><em>_And water'd heaven with their tears,__  
><em>_Did He smile His work to see?__  
><em>_Did He who made the lamb make thee?___

_Tiger, tiger, burning bright__  
><em>_In the forests of the night,__  
><em>_What immortal hand or eye__  
><em>_Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?__"_

Clark's head hurt just reviewing the words. Math was easy, some Rain Man like gift for being what he was. If he wanted to, he could set the math department at Gotham U on fire with his abilities. English took thought and patience, didn't come as naturally as breathing did. Clark had to suss things out, to slow down and think. It was why he was going to be majoring in it.

Although, he might be majoring in it after he got a better handle on the Romantic poets.

"What immortal hand or eye/Dare frame thy fearful symmetry," he repeated, wishing that the words made sense to him. All he could see were things he didn't like, things he'd tried to shut out his whole life. Krypton, wherever it had been, wasn't Earth. Theology wasn't a strong point of his. Hell, his family didn't even go to church. He just had a hunch, though, that the god who had made Blake's tiger wasn't the one who'd made him.

"Gotta say though, a lot of stars throwing spears? That sounds like you, Clark."

"Chloe?"

She grinned. "Is that for you English 101 class. I gotta say. I read that in my sophomore year of college and I totally bombed my essay on it. I was never good at the more arcane interpretations. I always thought it was pretty though."

"Yeah, pretty."

She smiled and it was too strained. Clark knew she wasn't here just to chat or take him to lunch. Hell, the fact that it was ten a.m. told him that much. "Clark?"

"Yes?"

"A man was brought in from The Narrows last night, ranting about a man so strong that when he punched him, _his_hand broke. The paramedics brought him in a stretcher and had to put him on life support because he's paralyzed from the neck down."

"That's terrible."

"Where were you last night?"

Clark looked down at his book and shut it. "Is that an accusation, Chlo?"

"You have walk abouts. I pretend not to notice them because I don't want us to fight, but I know that you go places. You weren't home last night and that's your..._Kal's_M.O. Did you steal the ring?"

"I don't know where it is," he replied honestly. "Chloe, I promise that I'd never hurt anyone like that."

Kal, now that was another matter. Of course, that part of himself reminded him that scum like that didn't deserve to walk if that's what they did with the chance. He shoved it aside.

"Clark?" she prodded, holding her hand to his forehead as if he had a fever. "Are you alright?"

"I thought you were here to accuse me of hospitalizing people."

"I'm here because you seem so sad lately. If you said you didn't hurt someone, I believe you. I know you wouldn't lie to me."

"Of course I wouldn't."

"Still, you seem so distracted all the time. Maybe we need a break, some time to go off to the farm? Hang out with your parents?"

"I thought the League needs us."

"We're no good to them if you're not feeling well. I think a vacation would be good. Pete's been asking for you to come visit them and little Clark more. You've not even seen them since Christmas. That's been almost four months."

"I'd love to, Chlo," he said, forcing himself to smile.

Kal'd rather swallow certain green rocks than be near Pete and Lana again.

"See, I'll talk to Diana or Dinah and Oliver, make sure someone has the city for a week or two. Getting out of here...I think the open space would do all of us some good. Besides, you know that this lines up really well with your spring break."

He nodded and leaned up to kiss her. "That is good planning."

"See and it's completely perfect. You, me, a Smallville bed and breakfast. It's all going to be amazing."

"Right," he agreed, trying to make her as happy as he could. He spent a lot of days like that. She was about to lean in to kiss him again when Bruce charged in the door. Clark groaned. "Doesn't a CEO have anything else to do but to visit _The Gotham Gazette_mailroom? People are going to start talking, Bruce."

Clark wondered if that scowl was permanent.

"Do you have a radio?"

"No, why would I? It's the basement. We get zero reception down here."

"Fawkes, have you been up on the AP wire?"

"No, I just came down to talk to Clark about something."

"What?"

"Personal," Clark interjected. "What's going on?"

"Oswald Cobblepot."

"Uh, gazuntheit," Clark replied.

The scowl widened. "The Penguin, Clark. He's escaped."

"So, let me get this straight," Chloe groused as she began pacing the floor of the batcave, the space before Bruce's impressive computer display. "We're going to Defcon 1 because of all 'badass' nemeses out there, mine waddled right out of his cell?"

Selina laughed. "Sometimes I don't hate you."

"I feel flattered," Chloe snarked back.

Alfred, being Alfred, set down a silver service tray of tea and frowned at both women. "Let's not have any catfights, shall we?"

"It's not funny, Fawkes. The last time the Penguin went after you, you died."

Selina blinked. "Huh?"

"I got better. I'm self-healing. I thought that everyone knew and was onboard with that. Just because I die doesn't mean I don't get right back up to fight again, you know?"

"Doesn't mean I want to see you hurt, Chloe," Bruce continued, his cape flaring out behind him.

Clark eyed Selina from across the cave. Bruce and Chloe even paced in rhythm. He wondered if they noticed that, if they could.

"And I don't need to be babysat. I'm a meta. I'm part of the League. I'm more experienced now than I was two years ago. I'm not going down because of emus with poisoned claws."

Selina arched an eyebrow at Bruce. "Are you people serious?"

"See! It's embarrassing. Everyone else gets a cool nemesis. Mine has dangerous flamingos!"

"This, Miss Sullivan, is always serious. We don't know how Mr. Cobblepot was able to escape and we don't know his intentions, just that they always revolve around you."

"And that they're never good. You just think you're immortal. Just because you haven't found anything that can kill you permanently yet, doesn't mean that _he_won't find something this time," Bruce finished and he reached out one gloved hand to touch Chloe's chin.

Clark swallowed and stood still. It took everything he had to keep Kal from flashfrying Bruce where he stood. He could do it now and have every problem in his life go up in smoke, literally. No more Bat to monitor him, no more of Chloe's eyes on Bruce.

Just them.

_Shut it, Kal._

The nagging went quiet. At his heart, even Kal didn't want to kill anyone. Even Clark wasn't sure if it was bcause he didn't want to get his hands that dirty or if there was something good, deep down, even in his more violent half.

The not knowing killed him.

"Bruce-"

The Dark Knight leaned down and looked at her. "Chloe, we need a better game plan than wait it out and let meta healing solve everything. I think your idea about going off with Clark to Smallville is a good one. The Penguin is expecting you out and patrolling like always."

Chloe pulled away. "So you're saying your master plan is the big scaredy runaway?"

"I didn't say that."

"You basically just did! Someone jump in here. I mean, Selina? Girl solidarity? I don't even like you but you have to see the shove the damsel off in distress M.O. sucks."

Selina nodded. "She has you there, Batz."

"That's not so helpful," Clark added.

"No, really, Opey?"

"Chloe," Bruce started again, this time taking her hand. "You were there for me when my parents died. You've helped me patrol this city for years."

"I was doing it when someone was off having a coming of age moment off in freaking China, by the way. It's _my_city, Bruce."

"Semantics," Alfred added.

"The point is, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Let Selina and I work the case here and Clark take care of you. We all know there's nothing that can take him down, except maybe you, Fawkes. Sometimes being strategic beats half-cocked. You used to know that."

They stood there, staring at each other and Clark could feel it. Hell, Kal could _smell_it, the sexual tension.

Chloe was over Bruce, his ass.

Selina, for her part, was glaring at Chloe as if she, too, had heat vision.

Clark felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. "Master Kent, it no longer means anything," Alfred replied, handing him tea. The British thought that could solve anything, a habit that had been ingrained in Bruce. More than one emergency session of the League's major players included Bruce guzzling Eark Gray like Popeye did spinach.

He looked back to where Bruce and Chloe were still facing off, as if no one else existed.

"Alfred, I think it does."

"What, Master Kent?"

Clark shook his head. He wouldn't let insecurities get to him here, not in the fucking batcave where Bruce was in charge. "Chloe, I have to say that Bruce is right this time. We were both angling for a vacation anyway. You know that you want to see Pete and Lana and Little Clark."

Selina snorted and eyed him, especially below the belt. "Little Clark?"

"It would never be like that," Chloe huffed, walking over to place her hand on Clark's shoulder. "That's his godson."

"How amazingly normal. I think that's a good idea. Send the parakeet away, Bruce."

"So then what happens?" Chloe asked.

"Bruce and I do what we do best," Selina practically purred.

"Be passive-aggressively co-dependent," Chloe snarked.

"Miss Sullivan that is hardly helpful."

"Oh Alfred, you come to my rescue, how amazingly sweet," Selina replied.

"Miss Kyle, don't confuse a need for politeness for chivalry on my part. You two ladies need to learn to keep your claws to yourselves. I think that would be most helpful."

Bruce sighed. "If that were to happen, my life would be much simpler."

Clark eyed Selina. She talked too much. "I think it would make all of our lives more simple. Chloe, would you like to have lunch with me now? We can plan out where to go in Smallville. There's a beautiful inn a few miles away in Granville. I think you'd like it a lot."

As he spoke, he tried to ignore Kal sneering in the background. Yes, he was so whipped.


	8. Chapter 8

Clark smiled as he set Chloe's duffle on the dresser along with her laptop case. The inn was luxurious, something he wouldn't have been able to afford for more than a night on his fabulous mail room salary, but Bruce had called ahead and put the room on his tab indefinitely. Normally, Clark would resent that but they needed Chloe out of Gotham and away from whatever ridiculous scheme the Penguin had in mind this time. This was easier than holing up in the farm in his own bedroom and a place no one would expect her to be, especially since Chloe had only spent the one year in Smallville back senior year of high school.

"See," he said, pointing halfheartedly at the floral print bedspread and the doilies. "Safe as houses."

Chloe rolled her eyes and started unpacking her clothes. The part of him that was Kal internally leered when she started with her lingerie. It was going to be one of _those _days, wasn't it? "Yes, because I'm a thousand miles away from anything even resembling Gotham. I've been superheroing since I was in college. I don't need a bodyguard and exile."

"Emus, Chlo," he replied unpacking his own bag in superspeed because he could.

She glared doubly hard at him. "No fair. Not all of us can unpack at the speed of sound. Anyway, it's stupid. Bruce has The Joker, I have a bloated bird enthusiast."

"It doesn't make him any less dangerous," he pointed out tiredly. "We went through this. Let Selina and Bruce do whatever it is they have to do and we'll be good probably in a week. Besides," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "There are a few things I can think of to do today."

Chloe laughed and continued her work. "You can think of _one _, _one _thing to do."

"Darlin', if it's in a lot of positions, it counts more than once."

Chloe frowned and stopped packing. Turning around, she squinted up at him, studying him. "Where is it?"

He blinked, confused. "Where's what?"

"The Red K. I thought Alfred had it locked up well enough, but I guess I was wrong."

"I don't have it."

"Bullshit, you don't. You never talk like that without it."

Clark sighed and sunk in on himself. For once, Kal was still inside his head, no comments or curses, just a piqued curiosity in where Chloe was going with all of this. "I do talk like this sometimes when I feel like it."

"You drop in the 'darlings' and the entendres and everything else when you're high. I don't see the ring on you or your eyes being all red but that doesn't mean I missed something."

In his head, under his skin, it was as if Kal had started pacing. Clark couldn't really explain how that worked, but Selina wasn't wrong. Some days he did feel like one of the big cats at the zoo, pacing a tiny patch of square footage, waiting for his chance to make an escape. "I don't have it. I didn't even know where you had the rock. I assumed you'd put it in Watchtower, frankly. It crossed my mind it was at the manor. Either way, I wasn't going to break into either."

"Uh-huh."

Shaking his head, he slunk down onto the foot of the mattress. "I've tried explaining this too you before. I don't know how to make it more clear than it is. I lived with the red K for a decade Chloe. It was ten years of my life when I was still just growing up and maturing. Call it radiation poisoning effects, I don't really care. However it all worked out, there are two of us in here," he said gesturing vaguely at his temple. "_ Kal's _always around even if the ring's not. It just makes him easier to let out, doesn't mean he can't poke through on his own."

_I can poke a lot of things. _

_Shut up. _

Chloe frowned and worried her bottom lip. "Clark, I don't know what you want me to say. You keep talking about yourself like you have schizophrenia."

"Dissociative identity disorder," he corrected. Clark had spent more than one day skimming through what might be wrong with him on his computer. Of course, most mental and other health websites didn't have a Kryptonian section. For all he knew maybe all his species had eight or nine personalities a piece.

"You don't."

"How do you know?"

"What?"

"How do you know what I feel or what I think? I tell you what I think you can handle but that hasn't been working the way I wanted it to. I tried to shield you from Kal because you don't like him."

"He saved my life...fuck, now you have me doing it. _You _saved my life strung out on the meteor rock, alright? You were a good guy even before you reformed. I don't hate any side of you, but I don't understand how you can insist, for lack of a better way to say it, that Clark Kent and Kal the Thug coexist."

Clark stiffened. "I don't know either. Christ, ask me how I fly or why I can make heat with my eyes. I have no fucking clue how I work, only that it _is _that way. Kal and I...timeshare's not the word. I _hope _I hope I have the upper hand most of the time; I think I do. He's always there-that arrogance, that contempt, that blood and other lust. Chlo, that's me too."

"You're good," she said and she sounded like a child trying to convince herself at twelve that there was still a Santa Claus.

"I _want _to be good," he said, sighing and scratching at his elbow. "There's a difference. A good man doesn't maim someone for life because he gets off on it."

She closed her eyes and swore and her breath. "You promised me you hadn't done that, that the incident last night in The Narrows wasn't you."

"I lied. I...I knew you'd be upset with me."

"Scum or not, you maimed someone for life, Clark. How am I supposed to feel? That's not how the League works. It's not what we're about. Diana and J'onn are almost as strong as you are. They don't break people's necks!"

Kal snorted, and, despite how hard Clark fought against it, got his own thoughts on the matter out. "I'm not a pet."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, darlin'. I am not a pet. You think you can get out the leash, tell me where to go and when to breathe. How high and all that, but that's not how it works."

"Clark-"

"Kal."

"Damn it whoever! The League lets you work for it if you do it our way. Our way doesn't include beating the hell out of people for...because...I don't even know why you'd beat the hell out of people."

Kal leered up at her and Clark was begging him to shut his idiotic mouth. "Because it's fun."

Chloe flinched and he stood, circling her even within the tight confines of the room. "You don't mean that."

"Sometimes I do," Kal answered simply. "Clark's a good kid, bland, by-the-book. He patrols because he likes to help people, because if life had been different The League would have been something he'd have started himself."

"I..."

"You know why I do it? Why I did it all these years before I even met you?"

"Stop it," she shouted, her eyes already welling up with tears. "Just stop it."

"It hurts, doesn't it," Kal prodded, circling, laughing a little internally because Clark was begging him to stop. "The truth I mean. You want to pretend I'm not dangerous, Chloe, I know you do. Bruce knows it's not true. Bruce can see it. Selina, Shayera, J'onn and Diana. Everyone sees it but you."

"I see it."

That stopped Kal, long enough for Clark to shove him aside and take the reins. Stepping back, giving her personal space again, he stroked the side of her cheek. "What?"

She was crying softly but managed to ignore it as she spoke. "The security council has meetings about you every month."

"There's a what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"There's a council within the greater league of the founding members-Oliver, Dinah, Bruce, J'onn, Diana, Shayera and me."

"I didn't know that."

"You don't have the clearance. Why would you?"

He dropped his hand and blinked. "The seven of you discuss me?"

"Often and heatedly. I go to bat for you every single goddamn time. Oliver, J'onn and I believe you can do the world a lot of good. You were instrumental in the Thanagarian crisis; it's true."

"The others?" Clark asked and it was getting harder to breathe. "Wonder Woman and BC worry about you. They'd prefer it if we turned you over to Arkham or to Belle Reve but they're willing to wait through probation."

"Gee, thanks."

"Shayera wanted you gone yesterday. She's your strongest critic except for Bruce."

"Naturally. Of course Bruce hates me."

"He listens to me. He's put his neck out _for you _. J'onn and Ollie think you have potential. If Bruce wasn't monitoring you in his city, they'd have let Shayera have her way a long time ago. Bruce keeps you out."

"Of what?"

"Arkham."

Clark shivered a little, thinking of that monster rising out of the hill. "You couldn't make me stay. You love me and you'd never tell any of them about the green meteor rocks. You never would."

"No, I couldn't bear it. I know Pete and your parents would never do it either. Arkham or Belle Reve probably couldn't contain you."

"They fucking well couldn't. Nothing can hold me. I humor you all. I play by the rules because I want you to love me. I want to be good for you."

"You almost killed someone not twenty-four hours ago. What am I going to tell them? My reputation, my judgement. Bruce knows, Clark. Don't think he doesn't. He knows everything about his city. I told him it wasn't you because you and I were _together _when it happened. I know he doesn't buy it, but I told him that anyway."

"I-"

"I want you to be one of us so badly, believe me I do. Pete and your parents...they tell me who you were here. I can see the potential you do have, what you've done to save me and a lot of people this year. But, no, you're not our equal and you're not in the League, and you never were."

"I'm your captive."

"Not exactly."

"You have fucking meetings about me. For a year. For a year, at least once a month, behind my back, the seven of you are talking about caging me up like a wild animal."

"Don't say it like that!"

"What is it supposed to sound like, Chloe? It sounds like the fact you used to fuck Bruce is the only reason I'm not at least getting a try out at Arkham or just locked in the Watchtower satellite." He shook his head. The 'Tower was made of metal that the lanterns had found for the League. It actually had a shot at containing him in a way Arkham probably couldn't.

"Bruce and I haven't slept together in three years. How dare you!"

"No, let's be honest."

"Oh we're doing that," she said, glaring back at him.

"Bruce would convince all of them to shove me off to Arkham if he could. He's in love with you and because you find me a novelty for now, he holds off."

"You're not a novelty!"

"You don't see me, Chloe. I thought you could. I love you, all of me loves you-Kal and Clark-but sometimes I'm not just the Boy Scout. I'm dangerous and I'm violent and I don't like being that way most of the time but sometimes I love it and it's irrational but so am I."

"Clark, please."

"Bruce is still in love with you, at least a little, and you're still in love with him."

"I am not!"

"I can see it. Selina and I both can."

"When did you get to be such buddies?"

"We're not. She confuses me but we saw you both at the Gugenheim. We saw you this morning in the cave. Christ, Chlo, you and Bruce even pace in tandem. He might have something with her and you with me, but you two can't escape each other. The League spares me because Bruce vouches for me even though he hates my guts and he does all of it because he's in love with you. If you ever got tired of me...the League would turn on me in a millisecond. That's what I'm finally getting. You all were humoring me and playing with me all along. None of you really thought I'd make it."

"I think you can but I have no idea what to tell them about that guy in The Narrows. How can I?"

Clark shook his head. "Chloe, you have to choose. You can be my lover or my jailer but you can't fucking be both."

"I..."

"Either you love me-all of me even the dark part-and learn to deal with those impulses or you fucking hand me and the green K over to Arkham yourself. It'll hurt less that way."

With that, he blurred off. If he were on an honesty kick, he had one place left to go


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

He was at the farm before he knew it, panting loudly as if he'd run a marathon during that time Eric Summers had had his powers. It was the adrenaline or whatever equivalent he had, pouring through him. He'd been hiding everything from Chloe for over a year. He'd been trying to pretend that just giving up the ring had made him whole again when he'd known all along that it never would, that ten years with it had fractured his psyche in a way that he would never ever be able to fix. He was Clark Kent, but he was "Kal the Thug" as Chloe had sneered about, and he would always have those impulses inside of him.

If she couldn't accept that, then he could run again. Maybe it had been a mistake to try living back in society again, to try being "Clark Kent, nice guy." If that man had ever completely existed, he surely no longer did. Kal was there. Kal would _always _be there. He wouldn't kill people; that was a line he'd never cross, but he wasn't a saint or a superhero. He wasn't the fucking Batman. If Chloe wanted to be his jailer, well, she'd have to fucking catch him first.

He walked up the stairs and into the little yellow farmhouse that was no longer truly his home. His mother was inside, chopping carrots for a stew and when she saw him, she dropped her knife and brought a hand to her mouth. "Clark?"

"Martha we need to talk."

She blinked and her eyes, as Chloe's had before her, went to his hands. "Are you wearing the class ring, Clark? Chloe said she'd taken it."

He snorted, Clark receding and letting Kal to the fore. He was bone tired, had too much weighing on his soul, let Kal say their piece for him. "You knew?"

"Chloe...she mentioned just to me some time back that you were still using it at home with her. She wasn't graphic but I understood why. I know, sweetheart, that your strength scares you and the heat vision. I can't even say I'm surprised. However, she said Alfred had it under lock and key at Wayne Manor."

Kal began to pace, long strides in a graceful rhythm.

_Tyger, tyger burning bright..._

"I respect you, Martha. You've always been good to me."

"Clark, honey?" she asked, reaching out to him and he stepped back, shying from her touch. Shaking his head, he sighed. Both of them loved her. Kal resented he'd been used as farm equipment and he resented _she'd _waited to tell him about the baby. Of all the people in his life, and he knew there were precious little of them, he loved her best. If there were one person he might have once been able to trust, it would have been she, even above Chloe and her stupid fucking meetings behind closed doors with Bruce.

"Don't."

"Did you go to Hobb's Pond? Did you get rocks when you got into town. Your eyes aren't red."

"No, Martha, I don't have the rocks."

"Stop calling me that. You're scaring me."

He nodded and stepped closer, looming over her. "I came to fucking tell the truth, _mom _. You've asked me to do that since I came back. Where's Jonathan?"

"Your father," she corrected, is in the barn with the horses.

"Good," he replied, grabbing her before she could object and blurring to the barn. Setting her back down, he watched as she blinked up at him. "Clark, what's going on? If it's not the rocks, I don't understand!"

Kal shook his head and turned to where Jonathan was coming out of a stall, hands covered in sawdust. "Jonathan Kent."

"Is this red Kryptonite again?"

Kal laughed and, curled somewhere in a corner of his mind, Clark just sighed. This needed to come out, like pulling off a band-aid. He needed this out of his system. Kal could say what he couldn't, so Clark allowed this. "It's _always _red Kryptonite. I don't think anyone gets that." Kal watched as Jonathan frowned and stepped between him and Martha. Kal noticed the slight. "I'd never hurt her and you're not worth my time, old man."

Jonathan stiffened and dropped his shovel. "Excuse me."

Kal laughed again and circled them, keeping a wide distance between his parents and himself. "Did you ever tell her why I left, _dad _?"

"I...of course I did."

He could hear it-the uptick in the other man's heartbeat as he lied. Neither Kal nor Clark were shocked. Kal knew that Jonathan would position for moral high ground every time; Clark assumed that some of it had been because his father was embarrassed over his own behavior. _Both _of them rankled, preparing to revisit the most painful of wounds.

"Did you tell her I came to see her at the hospital the day of the explosion, that I begged to see her and you shut the door in my face. That you looked at me as if I'd molted?"

His mother stepped out from behind Jonathan, angling herself equidistant between him and the older man. "What?"

Jonathan clenched his jaw and fumbled for an explanation. "Martha, you don't understand-"

"I don't?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Tell her, _dad _," Kal sneered. "Tell her how you turned your back on me and asked the doctor about _your _wife and _your _baby, how you slammed the door in the alien's face. Tell her."

"You what?" she prodded, drawing a few feet closer to Kal.

Good.

Jonathan was turning purple. "I...that's not exactly what I did."

"You kicked me out for her and for your real child. Don't lie now. We both know it's true. I would have stayed. I'd have never ever left if you'd given me one reason to stay. I screw up because of the ship and the pressure and you kick me out. I wasn't _good _enough. Wasn't _human _enough."

"That's not true. I was upset and your mother was sick and your sister had just died. What was I supposed to say?"

Martha was gaping at Jonathan but she finally made it over to Kal's side of the barn. Reaching out, she tried to take his right hand. "Baby, I didn't know."

Clark whimpered a little in his head. He knew she hadn't. He loved her. He resented a bit that he'd even been getting a sibling but human siblings had rivalries as well. She hadn't slammed the door in his face. As Kal succinctly put it, _fuck Jonathan _, the one who had.

"I know," he said, reaching up his arms and shucking off his flannel button down. He waited, standing as tall as he could, keeping eye contact with Jonathan, daring him to look away first.

The other man's jaw hung open. "My god. What happened to you."

"Clark!" his mom shouted and he allowed her to come closer, to run her hands over his chest and the scar that would forever mark him as inhuman, that would always be his shame and Jor-El's last attempt at full control of him.

_What immortal hand or eye..._

He hissed, the scar always sensitive, even after eleven years. "The ship did this to me. It branded me the morning of Lex's wedding. I...this is why I had to get rid of it. It _hurt _me; I couldn't leave it to kill you and destroy my family." Kal snorted. "Of course, you did that anyway, Jonathan. I'm not really welcome here am I?"

"That's not true. We missed you. We wanted you home!"

Kal stepped back from his mother and began to pace, forcing himself to stay to human speeds. "You didn't come for me."

"How would we have found you?" Jonathan asked, fumbling badly.

"I stayed in Metropolis for a year. My M.O. was blatant. You never even tried once to come for me. Did you even really care? Maybe you were better off with me gone-no more fear or lies or hiding, no more weird alien bullshit-you never came!" He let out a little heat vision, his gaze going red, to emphasize his point.

"Son-"

"Don't call me that, _dad _. You threw me out, let me go, and never once bothered in ten fucking years to find me. You got tired of me and let me go. If you'd given me five fucking minutes, just _five _at the hospital," he said, waving to his chest. "You'd have known what the ship did to me. I...maybe it did me a favor."

His mom blinked and reached for his chest. He allowed her to, again, enjoying her touch, wishing her were fifteen again and she could make it all better, but that time had long since passed. "Baby, you should have told _me _...how much pain you're in. Why did you hide?"

He sighed and let her keep touching him, moving her hand up to his shoulder to pat it. His eyes, however, never left his ersatz father. "It did me a favor because I can't forget ever where I'm from, who my real father is. I'm not just Clark Kent. I think once I was but I'm not now."

"Clark?"

He shook his head and broke contact with her. Clark whined a little internally at the loss of her touch; Kal snapped at him to shut the fuck up for once. "I wore the red K for ten years, letting it fry my brain. I'm not just Clark anymore. I...the red K side...I'm Kal too, right now and always, and I don't need a fucking rock for it." He was pacing again, going so fast that he was working a furrow in the dirt. "I'm both. Chloe doesn't get it, doesn't want to, but you have to know that that kid on the farm? He's gone. I mean, Clark's part of me, but he's not alone anymore. The criminal side _is _me too. Maybe it wasn't always, but it is now!"

"I..." his mom started and her voice broke.

Clark shut it all out, letting Kal be strong, as that side of him always had been. "_I'm _not always a good person. I like violence. I stole and beat up beat and I liked it, still like kicking the shit out of people when I let it all loose. I'm _always _going to like it."

"We didn't raise you to be like that," Jonathan countered as overbearing as ever.

Kal snorted. "You raised me until I was fifteen. Fuck, I celebrated my sixteenth birthday blowing a man outside of _Atlantis _after stealing a Ferrari. _I _raised me too, and, you, Jonathan, made that choice."

Jonathan's face was scrunched in disgust. "But you're not...you live with Chloe."

"And fuck her regularly. I'm not per say, but I was young and high and he had money and what the fuck did I care. I've done many, many things," he said, lowering his voice to a purr, "and with many partner combinations and positions. I'm not exactly a missionary man. Chloe was my first in some ways...but you can do a lot with fingers or a tongue."

Jonathan looked away. "Get out."

His mother, and she was crying now, great sobs escaping her throat, shook her head. He found himself forced to stop his speed when she rushed over and drew her close to him. "I...you should have told me. For a year and you didn't say a word. Baby, I don't care...some of it is in the past, and what's not? I'd rather figure out how to live with _both _Kal and Clark than shoo you away again. Don't leave, I can't bear it."

Kal stiffened an instant and Clark surged forward, hugging her, his posture going limp. He didn't want to fight her, even now. "Mom...Chloe and Bruce lied. The League never made me a real member. They were humoring me to keep me docile and they've been having meetings about me every month behind my back. I...something happened last night when I was patrolling The Narrows and _Kal _paralyzed a man and-"

His father was glaring at him again and Clark shuddered, remembering that look from Smallville Medical Center all too well. "'Kal's' an excuse."

"_ Kal _is me. I'm violent; I just am. Maybe I wasn't once but I am now. I...when Chloe tells Bruce what I've done, they'll probably lock me up in Watchtower or send me to Arkham. Chloe...she knows about green Kryptonite."

His mother clutched him frantically and started to shake. "Clark, no."

"I...I'm not sure what she and Bruce and everyone are going to decide. I really don't. I might have to run again but maybe it's best. I'm not just Clark Kent, farmboy, anymore and it hurts too much pretending to be who I was back in 2003. I just can't anymore."

"You can't leave, Clark," his mom said and she was pleading so shrilly.

Sighing, Clark got to his knees and looked up at her, frowning sadly. "Mom, you don't want the thug. I know that no one does. I'm not a good man anymore. Maybe I never really was. I killed _her _."

"I don't care about that. I lost one child and then another just to have you almost back. Please stay. I don't care who you slept with or who your robbed or what you do. You're my son."

He sighed and stroked her cheek. "Mom, you deserve better and dad doesn't-"

"You father does. We're just in shock here. Tell him, Jonathan!"

His father blinked dumbly back at her. "I...well..."

Clark's throat clinched and, internally, Kal snorted. It was not surprising, his father's reaction to his real nature. "I have nowhere I belong mom. I won't go in a cage, like some jungle cat in the zoo. I won't go to Arkham. I just came to tell _you _goodbye and that I love you very much, even the red K could never change that."

Suddenly, he felt something harsh cut through his body, sharp pain, and his intestines spasmed, his lungs closed up and his blood boiled. Blinking up, he was expecting his father to have yanked some green K out, anything to stop him from running for forever this time. What he did not expect was Bruce, in full regalia, holding up a massive chunk of unrefined meteor rock.

"We need to talk."

_When the stars threw down their spears/ __  
><em>_And watered heaven with their tears..._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Clark writhed on the floor, too out of it to register more than his mother's screams. There was noise beside him, his father cursing, and he almost laughed, wondering if his father and The Batman were fighting each other for control of the Kryptonite. There was a loud thump and, blessedly, the pain receded.

Sitting up Clark blinked at the sight before him. His dad held a lead box, which had lived in his dresser for emergencies such as these. That wasn't so unusual. What really confused him was that Bruce, himself, was lying on the barn floor, breathing heavily, what looked like a bullet wound that X-ray vision told him had barely missed his kidney gushing blood.

Dad? he asked shakily, mostly himself again and mixed up as Hell. What happened?

As he stood up he noticed his mother rushing for horse blankets and, hunching down, pressed them against Bruce's wound, doing anything she could to staunch the bleeding. Batman?

Bruce groaned and tried to stand, the type to never admit anything was an injury, even a point blank shot. I have to get up.

What the Hell is going on? his father demanded. You come here pulling out meteor rock on my son and now? What even happened?

Bruce coughed and Clark winced when he realized he was spitting out blood. It's Chloe. Selina and I traced The Penguin's movements to Smallville. How he knew to find her, I don't know. We got there in time for him to be carrying her away. One of his henchman knocked out Selina and I ran after them. They got off a shot.

Doesn't explain the meteor rock, his mom replied coolly.

Bruce coughed again and Clark legitimately wondered how long his heart could sustain this. It was a miracle he'd gotten to the farm or driven at all. I need Clark but I had him bugged. I knew about the attack in The Narrows. I honestly wasn't sure what state he'd be in when I found him. I was afraid I'd have to subdue him to get him to cooperate. It was as if that sentence was the last he could get out. With that, he passed out and Clark frowned at how precipitously his heart rate was dropping.

The Dark Knight would have to forgive him later. Clark took off his costume in superspeed and dressed him an old pair of his jeans and a flannel shirt. When Bruce lived and had his identity safe, he'd thank him.

Or at least think twice before incapacitating him.

It took twelve hours before Bruce woke up again. Twelve hours where Clark had left his mother and father to watch over The Batman and to call him if anything changed. Twelve hours for bullet removing surgery and recovery. He spent his time running through Gotham, especially The Narrows, trying to find where The Penguin had taken her.

He found nothing. He had no idea where to look and Chloe's time would be running out. Last time, even if it hadn't stuck, The Penguin had poisoned her. There was no telling what he was up to this time, but it would be present.

Scanning The Narrows for a third time, after returning from Uptown, his cell ringing interrupted his thoughts. Picking it up, he answered it, expecting his mother.

Tyger, Bruce is awake and he's asking for you.

Selina?

She laughed and it wasn't as rich or as confident as it usually was. Nine lives, remember. I can take a couple of licks every now and then. Now hurry so we can find that Canary of yours.

He didn't have to be told twice before blurring to the hospital, arching an eyebrow curiously at Selina-out of costume of course-holding hospital cup full of Jell-O. Idly, Clark wondered if she'd been spoon feeding it to Bruce and the image was enough to make Kal snicker but he managed to keep a straight face in the middle of everything. Rankling a little, since Selina was the last person he wanted to see, Clark shook his head at Bruce.

I can't find her. I must have combed The Narrows three times over and every other crime ridden and swank place in the city, in case he changed his fondness for crappy digs. Hell, the first place I went was the Zoo's avian section. I have nothing.

I need you to find her, Bruce replied, tone stern. I can't do it. It's not like we all have superhealing or invulnerability. I want both of you on this.

Selina rolled her eyes. I don't work with other partners. Tyger here-

Whatever you want, Clark said, almost begging. I shouldn't have left her alone.

No, you shouldn't have. I don't know what to do with you.

I know, Clark bristled. I've been the subject of a lot of speculation from the League. I've been discussed a lot as a 'problem.'

You broke a man's neck, Clark. What do I do about that?

Take me to Watchtower? Lock me up like a dog? he asked, his voice not nearly as even as he wanted it to be.

Bruce sighed and looked down at his blanket. I'll wave whatever. I'll never tell the Security Council if you bring Fawkes back in one piece and alive. I know I shouldn't do that, but frankly, I've known her since she was just a kid in college. I'm not going to lose her.

Selina set down her cup and without a word left the room. Clark wanted to do that himself.

Stiffly, he eyed the other man. Are you still in love with her?

I don't know.

That's not good enough. I see the way you two are with each other, how comfortable and easy you were together at the Gugenheim. Are you going to take her from me?

I care a great deal about Selina. I left Chloe for her.

But you miss her too because Chloe's one of a kind. I saved her life in The Narrows. She comes home to me at night.

For how long? Bruce countered. You're violent and that's not her type.

Clark snorted. Hmm, antisocial vigilante who plays by his own rules. I can't imagine if she doesn't have a type.

I don't maim people.

I wish I could say I was sorry, but I'm not. I sometimes they deserve it.

And that's the thinking that terrifies most of the others, except for J'onn and Oliver.

Would you really let me off the hook for her?

I'm not supposed to bend the rules, but sometimes I do. I did give Selina the best legal aid in order to get her off. You weren't wrong about that. Fawkes she does mean a lot to me too and I don't know how or if I want her back. Just help her, Clark.

Do you have any idea where she'd be because I've been stretching my abilities and I'm out of ideas?

No.

The door opened again and Selina entered. If Bruce also noticed how red rimmed her eyes were, he said nothing about it. Arkham. He and I worked together once to break into the zoo and free some cats and some rare peacocks. He has a lair there in an old section under construction. Taking in a sharp breath, she eyed Clark. Looks like you get your wish, Tyger. You're going to The Asylum after all.


	11. Chapter 11

11

Arkham loomed on the hill. It always loomed, rising up from the ground and standing there, a sprawling brick monsters with smoke rising into the sky from several chimneys, choking the air around it. From where he stood, with his superior vision he could see the bars on all the windows. Perking up his ears, he could hear the sounds of the hospital-the groans of patients, incoherent mumble, the crying, and the screams. The screams were the worst and he shuddered at them.

A warm hand was on his arm. Selina sighed and looked up at him, her left hand clinging to her whip, like a totem. "Tyger, the tunnel entrance is over there," she said, pointing to where a large sewer tunnel opened.

Sniffing the air, Clark huffed and, internally, Kal gave an It figures . Nodding, he looked back at her. "I...can you drop my arm?"

"Not in the mood to play tonight? The good boy then?"

"At least for a while," he replied, following her through the tunnel, holding his nose, and counting the 'Mississippis' until they came out into the basement of the building. That close, with the floors above him, Clark had to actively shut down his hearing to shut out the cries of the inmates. The basement was filthy with broken gurneys and torn strait jackets casually littered among long forgotten "renovation" fodder and the thick layers of dust.

Selina coughed. "Anything to get this done faster. I hate this place."

"Were you ever?"

"Here for keeps, no, but it makes a girl nervous, Tyger," she said winking. "I'll go left and you go right and we'll see who finds her first."

He frowned. "But you're just human."

"So's Bruce. We all learn to compensate for not having superstrength and speed. Go get your canary," she sing-songed, running off to the left of the fork in front of them."

Steeling himself, Clark surged forward, perking up his ears despite what he didn't want to have filtered through them, straining them for the sound of Chloe's voice or even The Penguin yelling at minions. It seemed futile for several minutes and he wondered if Selina had been wrong. Then he heard it, a scream that curdled his blood. Pouring on every ounce of superspeed he had, Clark raced down the tunnels and burst into an ampitheater of sorts, something that must have been once for operations and to show off to visiting doctors and medical students.

The room had a collection of birds-exotic parrots and cockatoos, flamingos and peacocks-in several large cages. There were four or five of Cobblepot's gang, and in the center of the room, the man himself, beating Chloe with a heavy umbrella. She gritted her teeth until she couldn't anymore and screamed again, this time his name. "Clark!"

He shot a blast of heat vision at the umbrella, melting most of it to slag and The Penguin yelled dropping it instantly and blowing on his flipper-like hand. "The Ghost's here. Come for your birdie?"

"Let her go!" he barked, grimacing at the angle of some of her bones and letting out a breath when she glowed, her healing kicking in.

"Come and get her."

The five men he had with him tried to pounce on him, but Clark was faster than that. In a blink, he had The Penguin by the neck. "Back off or I snap his neck."

Behind him, he could hear Chloe struggling in her straps. "Clark don't."

"Why not?" he hissed, squeezing more tightly and The Penguin's face started growing blue.

"Clark, please, Jesus look at me."

Turning around, complying for once, he looked at her. He saw her, really saw her, the tears running down her bruised cheeks, her green eyes bright. "Don't do this. It's not what we do."

"He tried to kill you."

"No one can," she replied. "Please, Clark, Kal drop him."

He stared back at The Penguin who had gone slack in his grip. He flashed back to years ago with Phelan, back then all he'd had to do was snap his neck too and god he'd wanted to. Maybe he didn't even need the red K to be violent, maybe he never had."He's scum and he always comes back." And despite himself, he could feel his eyes flare, the heat building in them.

"I know," Chloe replied quietly. "If you kill him, they'll send you here. They'll try that first. I'll lose you. Do you really want that; even if it's hard, do you want to lose us?"

Blinking the heat vision away, Clark shoved Kal to the background and dropped The Penguin. Panting, he felt as if he'd run full out for him, as if he'd had Kryptonite blocking him. It had been that difficult. Turning around, he moved to untie Chloe but found that Selina, arriving a little late, was already undoing her bonds.

"No worries, I got her," she replied and he was surprised that Chloe let her put her hands on her shoulders and sit Chloe up. Despite herself and their frenemy relationship, Selina reached up and stroked Chloe's back. "You're alright, birdie?"

Chloe nodded and when she spoke, her voice was so small, so quiet. "I am."

Walking over to her, Clark offered a hesitant hug, at first afraid she'd ignore the overture. He was relieved to have her throw her arms around him instead. "I'm proud of you. I...you saved me."

"Always," he replied. Breathing in her scent, burying his nose in her hair.

A whip cracked behind him and Selina shook her head. "Detain him, call the cops and let's get out of here. I hate this place."

"Me too," Chloe chirped.

"Definitely," Clark said, picking Chloe up from off the table and holding her tightly to him.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright/  
>In the forests of the night...<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

12

_A/N – This story actually goes NC-17 in the final act but had to be edited for fanfiction dot net. In order to read the more adult version, you may go to The Sullivan Chronicles archive and locate The Asylum there. Thanks!_

Chloe and Bruce were both recovering at the manor. She had a bedroom on the East Wing, as far from Bruce as she could be and Clark wondered if Alfred, sensing the tension in their little love quadrangle, had arranged it that way. Clark had spent most of his time watching after Chloe, who, though she healed excellently, was a bit more shaken emotionally. He knew it wasn't really related to The Penguin. She'd fared worse last time with his poisoning. It was about Clark, and the edge he'd come to.

She hadn't said anything about it yet, just letting him bring soup and Jell-O as well, playing the patient and watching bad talk shows with him, but it was this huge wall between them. She'd seen him on the edge of killing someone and had almost failed to talk him down.

Almost .

Still, it had been two days and Clark had someone else on his docket. Approaching Bruce's room, he noticed Selina bringing a mostly empty tray out of the doorway. "Tyger," she said, sighing. "He's not up to too many visitors. Even Batman can't get over a gunshot wound in an instant."

"He wants to will himself to, I'm sure," he replied, offering her a small smile. "You're a good nurse."

"I try."

"I...it sucks you know, that they're so connected to each other, so tied up for a decade, almost, before we came along."

She nodded and gripped the tray tighter to her chest. "But we love them anyway."

"Yeah."

"Can both your halves agree on that."

"Always. I...you confuse the Hell out of me."

"Because I see through you."

"Sometimes," he snorted. "In another life, if things were different-"

"They're not and no matter what he still feels about Chloe, might always feel for her, I love him."

"I know the feeling," he said, casting a glance toward the East Wing.

"So how was your trip to Arkham? You've stared at it enough."

"I'm never going there again. I don't care how much green meteor rock Bruce has; I'll run again. I'm a lot of things, but, even if I'm a bit divided, I'm not crazy."

"Me neither," she said, stepping past him. "If you run, take care of yourself. You're more extraordinary than you know."

"Really?"

"I'd have kept squeezing," she said simply, slipping down the stairs.

Blinking at that, Clark passed through the doorway slowly, hunching a little and unwilling to meet Bruce's eyes. The Dark Knight coughed a bit and he assumed that the other man would be feeling poorly for a while to come. "What do we do now?"

Bruce's voice was steady, that annoying calm that pissed Kal and Clark so much. "You can't stay in Gotham. You're smart enough to know that, said as much to Selina."

"I know. Are you going to tell the League how to stop me?"

"No, I won't. I probably should but I've bent rules before and you saved Fawkes."

"And she means a lot to you."

He nodded, "Probably always will but I lost her a long time ago, first because of Selina and whatever we have. Then you came along."

"I don't know if she'd follow me, if I went on the run. I said things-"

"I know Chloe well. I know when she'll forgive someone and I know when she's gone on someone. She looks at you with ten times the devotion she ever looked at me with."

"You don't have to cover for me. The right thing to do would be to turn me over, and you know that."

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm giving you twenty-four hours , Clark. Then I alert the League you ran."

"And the green meteor rocks?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

"For Chloe's sake."

Bruce nodded and Clark glanced at him, noticed him staring out the window at only something he could see. "Yes, now go. The clock starts now."

Before Clark could tell Chloe about what he had to do, he needed to visit the farm, to set the record straight before he left to who knew where. He was thinking Shanghai or maybe Sydney, somewhere on the opposite side of the globe from all he'd known. But running again meant not contacting his parents. It would be the first place the League would look.

Sighing, Clark knocked politely on the door of the little yellow farmhouse where he'd been raised, the building that had not really felt like home since he was in high school. His mom answered the door and seemed as skittish as he felt. "Baby?"

He nodded and hugged her. "I...Chloe's alright, Bruce too. Mom, I have to admit I was really tempted with The Penguin; I wanted to snap his neck."

She hesitated as she led him to the couch. "But you didn't?"

"I could have," he admitted, flexing his hands. "Chloe talked me down. I...I'm just not the man you raised and I'm sorry."

"Me too," she said, hugging him again. "You can still stay or visit. I can learn to deal with that other side of you."

"I can't really. Bruce is going to tell the League in less than twenty hours that I've gone rogue. He's giving me and Chloe a head start to run."

"What?" she said, pulling back and frowning at him. "I just got you back a year ago!"

"I'll find a way to keep in touch. I'll figure out a code or something. I...this isn't forever. I just need time to think."

"But you'll be gone for years again?"

"Maybe," he replied, shaking his head. "I fucked things up so much. Maybe it wasn't meant to last."

"I don't believe that."

"Where's dad?"

"I asked him to go to a hotel in Granville for a few days. We're working things out. If I'd known he sent you away...well, I'm not going to leave him. I just need time to process all of it."

He swallowed. "I'm not sorry for what I said. It hurt , mom, so much. It hurt not to be wanted and I think it always will."

"I want you, sweetheart," she said, squeezing his hand.

"Thanks mom. I...I have to go. If we're going to make this, if Chloe will even come with me, I need to convince her now."

His mom was crying then, large tears rolling down her cheeks. "I love you. Come home please, if you ever can."

"I'll try," he said, hugging her one last time, holding her there for what felt like forever. It would have to last him for a very long time.

"You're going to run?"

He nodded, pacing a little, always feeling like a jungle cat in a cage, watched by everyone. "I have to. Bruce said...well I have 19 hours left. So either I leave, or get locked in Watchtower. I don't want to do that, Chlo."

"My life's here-my job, the city I patrol, Batman."

He swallowed at that. "I know, but I can't do this without you. For good or ill, you temper both sides of me. You calm me down and push me even when I'm wrong to be the man I want to be."

She considered that and quirked her head at him. "I'll try it; I'm not making promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you."

"On one condition, make love to me. You, Clark Kent. No rocks, no reaching out to Kal. I know you can do this."

"I-" he hesitated.

She slipped out of her bed, wearing nothing but his undershirt that he'd let her borrow after he'd washed it. Leaning up, she kissed him.

Pushing her gently away, Clark could barely talk. "I can't."

She shook her head and smiled back at him, her finger nails tracing patterns lightly over his t-shirt. "You can." They made love then, hard and fast, not the gentle love making Clark would have thought would be his first real time. Still, it was everything he'd wanted and he hadn't hurt her. Breathless, he laid back in bed but held her close to him, relaxing as she buried her face in his neck.

"Don't leave me, Chloe, please."

"I won't."

"I...I don't know where we'll go," he said, his voice more plaintive than he wanted.

She leaned up to his throat and kissed him. "We're going together. We'll figure it out."

Nodding he kissed her again, long and lingering. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring but with her with him, both sides of him-Kal and Clark-didn't care. She was his strength, no longer his jailer, and he'd take her with him wherever he went.

A/N - to be concluded in The Watchtower eventually. Thanks for reading!


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